


Cabo San Danger Zone

by dorkgrayson



Category: Archer (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-23
Updated: 2015-07-22
Packaged: 2018-04-10 18:59:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4403468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dorkgrayson/pseuds/dorkgrayson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lana and Archer are out on a mission to take down a major player in Mexico's drug ring. The two battle enemies on all fronts including mafia goons, cartel leaders, psychotic cyborg hookers, regular hookers, amnesia, and more dangerous yet: themselves. Set prior to S5.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cabo San Danger Zone

“Malory!” Winded from having run around the entire office, Lana Kane propped herself against the head of ISIS’s doorframe. She was a stunningly beautiful - behemoth of a - woman, whose sweater dresses clung to her shapely physique in all the right places, which for her were all of the places in general. Today, her look was disheveled chic cluster fuck; as Ray and Pam both said when she ran past them, knocking ISIS’s comptroller and her ex-boyfriend Cyril over on “accident.” Her hair was out of place, her perpetually pristine leather knee high boots scuffed, breathing erratic, she just barely managed to wheeze out, “Have you seen Archer?”

Lifting her cold eyes from the fifth drink she was pouring herself this morning (it was 10am and she was pacing herself for an important meeting later in the day), Malory Archer visually acquiesced the giant visage of her best (though she would be loathe to outright admit that) field operative.

“Sterling?” she asked, nonplussed by the big breasted she-hulk invading her office and heaving in lung fulls of her air. “No, I haven’t seen him this morning. Why? Oh, what has he gotten into now?”

“Have you called him?” She was frantic and concerned, and hating the fact that she was.

He always pulled stunts like this, if ever there were a true life allegory to the boy who cried wolf, Sterling Archer would be it. He liked to emotionally rile any and everyone he could get to, even going so far as to spend hours chanting then screaming their name to get a reaction out of them. He was a selfish, horrible man who took life as one big joke and everyone else was just collateral damage for his amusement.

Deep down, Lana knew it came from his entire life’s worth of insecurities and maternal neglect from the woman before her but she did not have time to dwell on the irreparable damage caused in the past, but instead on the possibly current damage done or being done to him.

Lana, brought out of her thoughts, heard Malory suck at her rum-soaked teeth in annoyance. “You know how much I hate calling him.” She was reminded of the numerous false voice mail messages and air horns that constantly threatened to rupture her ear drum. Not to mention the rage-inducing, phone-crushing humility that came from always speaking to his tricky voicemail before catching on. “Oh, but Lana.”

She stopped mid-bolt, turning on her heel to face her boss.

“Since you’re here, we may as well discuss your status on mission acceptance?”

“Nyope,” Lana decisively attempted to end the conversation before it continued as realization hit. She could not believe that she could not believe she was having this discussion while Archer could be hurt or wounded. All his text said was, “Lana emergency can’t breathe need” with no other messages. Maybe he needed mouth-to-mouth or CPR, his body’s lack of oxygen turning him as blue in the face as his piercing eyes; or maybe he was trapped and needed an evac chopper on a mission or fatal accident; or more likely he was being an ass but Lana’s stricken mind barely had time to process that more evident explanation.

“Lana —“

“I would rather quit than take that mission. I would rather Pam sit on my face, spread her cheeks reeeeeal wide while Cheryl —”

“Oh, stop being so melodramatic,” Malory Archer, head of ISIS, rolled her hand and heard the soft clink of ice in her nearly empty tumbler. “We all know you will never leave ISIS. Besides, where could you go?”

“I’ve had offers!” she indignantly chimed. “Loads!”

Malory narrowed her eyes, her crows feet like talons waiting to lash out at her best agent. “Hmmm.”

“Whu, I have!”

The older woman sniffed at what she believed to be a bold faced lie.

“Ok, and you know what, I think it’s pretty offensive that you thought I was the best suited for this operation.”

“Well, you would be!”

Lana scoffed. “Oh, really?” She pulled out one of the few dossier files she was given. “A perfect fit to play the role of the beefy, transvestite wife of an ambassador - who was to be played by Ray?”

Lana groaned at Malory’s prolonged and affirming silence. “If you need me,” she said. “I will be out looking for your —“

“Mother,” Sterling Archer walked in, unscathed and jovially wiping a tear from his eye. “You have got to see this!”

“Son!” Lana finished then screeched his name, grabbing the collar of his gray suit roughly. There was a fury, a fire burning behind her emerald eyes stoked on by Archer’s nonchalance and ok-edness.

The man blanched and tried to swat her large hands away from his expensive suit. “Geez, Lana, ease up would you? If I wanted someone to manhandle this suit I would have told Woodhouse to take it to the cleaners where it would inevitably be lost in some crack den which I would then be forced to feed him as many spiderwebs as this suit cost.”  
 He lost himself for a moment and Lana took the opportunity to assault him with her hands, smacking and whacking at his arms and face. His chuckling turned to sounds of pain, grimacing from her heavy-handed attacks.

“All jokes aside, Lana, please do ease up. It feels like I’m being beaten to death by two snow plows,” He fixed his steely gaze on the woman standing behind her, casually downing the remaining contents of her Glengoole Blue supply. “And you, Mother, aren’t you going to do anything to stop this!”

Lana screamed and hit him with one last resounding whack and asked, “What was the emergency that was so important it had me running all over the place to find you, Archer?”

He straightened his posture and righted his suit, eyes lighting up his hand slipped into his pocket and pulled out his cellphone. Tapping a few key points on the touch screen, he clicked a link which opened up to a video. It was a poor quality video of a jungle cat nursing what looked to be a newborn fawn.

“Why…” Lana sighed. “Why are we watching this?”

“Lana, do you not see the importance of this? Trans-species affection and upbringing is a feat and miracle of nature.”

Thunderous steps boomed down the hall. Suddenly, Dr. Krieger from the basement level laboratory’s face appeared in the empty doorway. His face was gaunt and his panicked eyes scanning the room quickly.

“I heard trans-species something or other,” he peered around the room cautiously, then his back bolted upright and he stared at each member in the room, his body more jittery than usual. “Uh, completely unrelated, have any of you seen a glowing chimpanzaroo?”

There was a screeching heard some distance away, Krieger’s face turned directly towards the noise that was either what he was searching for or Cheryl finding Fisto Roboto again. And he hid it so well this time. He raced toward the noise, producing his stun gun from his inside coat pocket, whatever he found was going down whether they liked it or not.

Lana rubbed at her temples as Archer softly cooed at his screen unperturbed, wiggling his finger as if he were petting the chin of the actual jaguar. “So why couldn’t you breathe?”

“Because of how god damn cute this is!”

“If you both are finished,” Malory interrupted, noticing the shaking of Lana’s hands as they dangerously approached her son’s neck. “There is still the matter we were discussing, Lana.”

“Not doin’ it!”

“What?” he interjected. “That mission where Ray - hah! - is Lana’s husband and Lana is supposed to play that tranny wife because of that dictator’s fetish? Come on. Ray would not be passable. I mean Lana, eh, maybe; but not Ray.”

“Hey!” Lana cried out.

“Hey, too!” an effeminate voice objected, crisp shoes clicking their way into the office. Ray glared at Archer as he laid his dossier down on his boss’s desk. “I could pass.”

Archer scoffed, fixing himself a drink and taking a large swig. “Yeah, ok, Ray. Hey, I hear the diner’s open and I know you’re so partial to Greek. Maybe you should catch the lunch rush before it’s over.”

Ray clicked his tongue, muttered, “Ass,” then left the room.

“We know, Ray, _God_ ,” Archer called out to him. Lana smacked him on the arm again for good measure.

“Well, the only other available mission is one with Sterling so if you would rather that to the one with Ray…” Malory trailed off, knowing and loving that she had pushed Lana into a corner.

Said woman sighed and asked, “How about any missions on my own? As a more than capable field agent —“

Archer laughed heartily, Lana’s eyes narrowed but noticed he was still staring at his phone. His head popped up and corrected her assumption, “Oh…I’m actually laughing at you. Capable field agent, pfft,” then went back to his screen.

Malory interjected before Lana could murder her murder-deserving son. “ _Unfortunately_ there are none, at least none that I feel the need to send you on. So, missy, it’s either you play your role as Ray’s husband-wife or you and Sterling go to Cabo to dispatch a major player in the drug trade, Alejandro Vorhees. Your choice.”

“I,” she abruptly paused. “Did you say, Cabo?”

Malory’s sly smile was obscured by the brim of her glass, sipping her drink delicately the gears turned in her mind as she continued to scheme away. “I’ll assume you’ll be packed within the hour?”

But Lana was already out the door. There was a pause, a fuzzy radio silence coming from Archer’s phone. He briefly glanced up at his mother and questioned, “Wait…did you say I had a mission?”


End file.
